


Stone

by acetrainerjaimes



Category: Protector of the Small - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-14
Updated: 2016-06-14
Packaged: 2018-07-14 23:36:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7195826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acetrainerjaimes/pseuds/acetrainerjaimes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joren's Ordeal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stone

The priest motioned him to stand. In his eyes was a question, the same one every squire asked himself when he stood here.  
_Are you ready?_  
If he'd been allowed, he would have laughed. Did it matter now if he was ready or not?  
Instead he stood and nodded curtly. He smoothed the rough tunic and tried to swallow against the sudden lump in his throat. This was it.  
The Chamber door opened, and Joren of Stone Mountain stepped through to complete his ordeal.

***

_"Hey, I thought I told you to clean that up." The older boy pointed at the blank tiles of the floor. Behind him, several of his friends grinned and elbowed one another._  
_"Yeah," said another. "How can we study if the room's such a mess?"_  
_"You heard him, pretty boy. Clean it."_  
_Joren scowled, but he'd walked into this mess. He knelt to the ground and began scrubbing the flags as the other boys jeered. Next time, he thought, he'd know better than to go looking for a book on his own._

***

_He found himself kneeling in the grass, a sword in his hand. He remembered those boys, the ones who had hazed his generation--the ones who taught them to follow a superior's orders, to be smart and avoid battles you couldn't win. The priests and warriors may have taught them book learning and battle techniques, but the older boys taught attitude. They were the ones who made knights._  
_Joren wanted to help the new pages as he'd been helped. He didn't hate them--he wanted them to succeed as he had._

_And then_ she'd _shown up. She stood there now, in full armor, sword unsheathed in her hand. She didn't understand the tradition. She never would, and she would fail because of it. He had tried to make her see it before._  
_This time he would make sure she understood. He raised his sword and moved forward._

_She blocked his attack smoothly and moved into an attack of her own. They traded blows, each struggling to gain the upper hand._  
_This wasn't right. Joren was a knight, or nearly one. She was barely a squire._  
_In his confusion he began to falter. She kept on her attack, blank-faced and bland as ever. Even when she disarmed him, pulling his sword from his grip as though his years of training were nothing, she didn't even smile. Just held the blade and stood there, watching him. Like a Lump. Like stone._  
_He hated those eyes, their unwavering level gaze. He hated that mouth that never smiled or joked. He hated her._  
_He snatched the sword back and raised it in challenge. This time, for sure, he would win. He would defeat her, he would defeat the chamber, and he would claim his shield._

_She didn't move, holding her sword loosely at her side. Well, if she wanted to make it_ easy--  
_He swung at her, aiming for those emotionless eyes. She blocked him lazily and returned to her previous stance._  
_He blinked and tried again, with the same result._  
_Each swing made him angrier than the last, until he was shaking and near-blind with fury. At last he threw caution to the winds._  
_He lunged forward, leaving his guard wide open._  
"Fight, you--"  
_He remembered too late where he was._  
_Pain shot through his chest--her sword, buried hilt-deep._  
_The sword dissolved like an illusionist's trick. The pain remained._  
_She disappeared too, everything fading into blackness._

***

When the light returned, flooding through the opening iron door, Joren did not see it.


End file.
